


Always Afraid, Always Ashamed

by CaptainDean13



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Coming Out, Fear, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Protective Avengers, Psychological Torture, Revelations, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 06:49:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8391421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainDean13/pseuds/CaptainDean13
Summary: Maybe that was why they slipped.  Maybe they shouldn’t have been chatting on the comms so much.  Maybe they should have swept the compound before congregating in one room.  Maybe, maybe, maybe.  Maybe there was nothing they could have done.  Maybe it didn’t matter.   
The team is taken hostage and Steve is forced to face his fears and secrets to save them.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Confession" By Red

_It was supposed to be a simple mission. Infiltrate the base, subdue all opposition, extract the information, and destroy everything on the way out. Something they had done a hundred times. Maybe that was why they slipped. Maybe they shouldn’t have been chatting on the comms so much. Maybe they should have swept the compound before congregating in one room. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe there was nothing they could have done. Maybe it didn’t matter._

_**STEVE** _

Steve and Natasha fought their way through the door into the main lab. Natasha scanned the room while Steve held off the rather half-hearted resistance. Eyeing the extensive experiments scattered around the room, she hailed Tony to come check them over. Natasha began hacking into the computers lining one wall as Tony made his way through the experiments, rambling on about his findings. 

Steve tuned him out with the ease of years of practice as Bucky and Sam meandered in from the back of the compound where they had been cutting off the retreat of the fleeing scientists and guards. Moments later, Clint dropped from the ceiling, landing directly behind Tony and causing the genius to squeak in surprise. 

The team’s taunting was interrupted by a rumbling that was more sensation than sound. Bucky was the first to notice the giant slabs sliding across the room’s entrances. With a cry of alarm, he leapt to the nearest and began hauling against the slab. It continued without pause, and Steve rushed to help. The two super soldiers were not enough to overpower the stone, however, and they just managed to yank their hands out of the way as the slab slammed shut. 

Steve surveyed the room, thinking quickly. “Hawkeye,” he turned to where the archer was still beside Tony. “See if you can get out the way you got in.” 

“You got it Cap.” Clint used Tony to clamber back into the ceiling, ignoring his sputtered protest. A few moments passed and then “Aw, vents, no” came echoing down to them. 

Steve’s lips quirked in wry amusement. “Any ideas?” He asked the others.

“I could try and blast my way out?” Tony suggested, repulsors whining to life. 

“I would advise against that Mr. Stark.” A low voice hissed.

The team spun away from each other, attempting to located the speaker. 

“Look all you like; I am not in the room.” 

“Open the doors.” Steve ordered firmly.

“Tsk tsk,” the sibilant voice scolded. “I expected better manners from you Captain.”

Catching Bucky’s eye, Steve motioned slightly. Bucky nodded and slunk off to examine the perimeter of the room. Meanwhile, Steve attempted to keep the voice focused on him. “I find I tend to lose my manners when someone takes my team hostage.”

“Oh, do not worry Captain. I intend your team no physical harm. I merely want to play a little game.”

“What’s the matter?” Tony interjected. “Your sparkling personality wasn’t enough to get you any friends so you decided to kidnap some?”

“Very amusing Mr. Stark. No, the game I wish to play is designed specifically for Captain Rogers here.” 

Brows raising, Steve asked, “Is that so? Just what kind of game is it?” He spared a glance at Bucky who shook his head – he hadn’t found anything.

“You see, Captain, I have been observing you for some time. I find it fascinating that you encourage your team to confide in you and one another and support each other and yet you do not, what’s the phrase? ‘Practice as you preach.’”

“That’s a lie.” Steve snapped. Unease was beginning to bloom in his chest. With no visible threat, the team was watching him and Steve found himself unable to look at any of them. 

“Is it? Do any of them know the real you?”

“Of course.” Steve declared, the uneasiness growing with every word. “They are not just my team, they are my friends. And Bucky has known me my whole life.” At this, Bucky gripped Steve’s shoulder. 

“Ah yes. Sergeant Barnes. As you said, he has been present for most of your life. But even he does not know all your secrets, does he? I can see your mind Captain. All the secrets…. fears…. lies….”

The unease solidified into a crackling ball of dread that constricted Steve’s chest. “What do you want?” He gritted out. Bucky’s grip tightened in concern, but Steve couldn’t meet his eyes. 

“I told you. I want to play a game. The game is very simple. You and your friends will go into the room.” There was another deep rumble as a new door opened behind one of the lab benches. “Inside the room you will be forced to confront these secrets. Crack yourself open and let your team see all the dark, nasty fears you keep inside.”

Try as he might to control it, Steve starts to tremble. Bucky, hand still clenched on Steve’s shoulder, can feel the tremor and growls as his protective instincts come screaming to life. “Why?” He spits. “Why the fuck do you want that? And better yet, what kind of stupid fucker are you that you think we would just stand around and let you do that?”

The low voice somehow manages to cut through the others’ overlapping protests and angry shouts. “Because, Sergeant Barnes, the way to break a team is to break its strength. Captain Rogers is the heart of the Avengers. Break him and I break you. That’s how I win the game. Either I break Captain Rogers or I break the ridiculous faith you all have in him.”

“Never gonna happen.” Sam states.

“We’ll see. The odds are in my favor you see. I know exactly what the Captain fears. Can any of you say the same?” 

The silence is thick and Steve feels his stomach plummet. Then Natasha speaks. “You never answered the second question. Why are you so sure we will stand aside and let you play your twisted game?”

“Simple. If you do not, I will flood the room with a gas we have been working to develop. I doubt it will kill all of you – Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes may be able to metabolize the gas too quickly for it to be fatal and I am sure Mr. Stark’s suit has a filtration system of some kind. However, I can guarantee it will kill at least some of you. From the trials it appears to be quite the nasty way to go.”

Steve’s gaze flickers to Clint, Natasha and Sam. 

“You don’t have to do this Steve.” Natasha murmurs, meeting his gaze steadily. “We can find another way.”

“There is no other way.” Steve replies, eyes never leaving hers. “I can’t let anything happen to you three, especially not to spare myself.” 

The dread blooms into a terror that threatens to consume him as Steve draws himself up and answers, “I’ll play your game.”

“Good…” The voice hisses delightedly. “Into the room.”

Steve’s feet are rooted to the floor. Try as he might, he cannot force himself to take a single step toward the looming doorway. It is Tony that comes to him. Wrapping his armored fingers around the shoulder opposite the one Bucky is attached to, he uses his other hand to force Steve to meet his gaze.

“Steve,” Tony commands. The use of his first name is enough to startle Steve into focus. “I don’t know what is going to happen in there. None of us do, which apparently is the point. Regardless, you know what I do know?” Serious brown eyes meet panicked blue and soften. “You are our friend. Our Captain. We follow you. We trust you. We care about you. Nothing that happens will change that Steve, I swear to you.”

Steve feels the terror recede just enough for him to draw a shaky breath. Tony searches his eyes for another moment before squeezing his shoulder and drawing away to guide him into the room. 

**_BUCKY_ **

As Stark and Sam get Steve moving, Bucky lingers behind. Natalia waits for him, brow raised in question. 

“I don’t like this.” Bucky growls quietly. 

“You think the rest of us do?” She returns.

“No. But I know Steve. Even when my brain was in pieces I knew Steve. This,” he waves his hand toward where Steve and Tony had been moments ago. “This is not Steve. He is afraid.”

“Steve has lived through a lot Yasha. Maybe he is afraid of what he will be forced to relive in that room.”

“If there are two things that are true about Steven Grant Rogers it is that he is stubborn and stupidly brave. This is more than fear of reliving the past. He would have pushed right through that. Hell, he would have blustered his way through visions of fears he has. Steve tends to run headlong at things that scare him, shrieking like a banshee. No, I think he is afraid of us seeing something. Afraid of our reaction. And I can’t figure out what it might be.”

Bucky felt the truth of the words as he spoke them. There were still gaps in his memory, but the one thing he never questioned was his instinctual understanding of Steve. Natalia interrupted his train of thought. 

“Like Tony said – isn’t that the whole point of this ‘game’?”

“You preparing to abandon him, Romanoff?” Bucky snarls. Natalia merely quirks her brow and stares at him. Bucky releases a sigh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.” Natalia acknowledges the apology with an incline of the head and remains silent. “Steve can’t lie for shit. Never could. I was always able to tell when he was trying to keep something from me. I don’t believe he could have kept something as major as this implies from me. But he is terrified. And that.... that scares me.” He admitted. 

There is not time for Natalia to do more than shoot him a worried look before they reach the others. Bucky moves to Steve’s side, surveying the new room. It’s dim, with barely enough light for him to make out Steve’s face, especially once the slab traps them in. It appears to be completely empty as well. 

The voice returns. “Here is how the game will run. Five visions, five secrets, five fears. One for each of your teammates here. Fitting, isn’t it? Once you have gone through all five, you all will be free to go. Are you ready to begin, Captain?”

Steve is paler than Bucky has ever seen. There must be something he can do to help. A sudden flash of inspiration strikes and Bucky’s metal hand reaches out to turn Steve’s face towards him. Making sure he has Steve’s attention, he murmurs, “He is a bully Steve. Just another bully. And Steve Rogers can do that all day.” The words release something in Steve. He blinks and his blue eyes focus on Bucky. Steve then closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and straightens, turning from Bucky slightly. 

“Give it your best shot.”


	2. Round 1

**_SAM_ **

Something in Sam’s chest loosens just a hair at Steve’s rebellious words. That is the Steve he has come to know. The one the world doesn’t see. 

The owner of the voice seems almost… amused by Steve’s anger. Sam shoves down the ominous feeling that raises in him and focuses on Steve.

“Let’s start out simple, shall we Captain?”

All light in the room vanishes. From the dark, a soft, rhythmic thunk-thunk begins. It is swiftly followed by a low moan from Steve. 

The floor begins to vibrate under them and Sam just barely hears Bucky’s quiet, “Oh, Stevie.”

The scene lightens abruptly, leaving Sam and the others blinking at what appears to be a storage room of some kind. 

“What-?” Tony asks.

Bucky interrupts before he can finish the question. “Look to your left.”

Sam complies. Immediately to his left is Tony, followed by Steve and Bucky. Steve is staring at one corner of the room with a look of intense pain etched on his face. Following Steve’s gaze, Sam blinks in surprise.

“Jesus Christ.” Tony blurts. “Barnes, is that you?”

In the corner, crouching in the small space formed by the walls and a stack of crates, is a much younger James Barnes.

“Yeah,” Bucky smirks humorlessly. “Looked a little different then, didn’t I?”

It is an understatement. The Bucky hunkered down behind the crates is a good deal smaller than his modern counterpart. His hair is short, a tad longer than regulation, and he has both of his arms. Sam is starting to get a very bad feeling about this.

As they watch, Bucky huffs out a breath as he checks his gun. The door next to him slides open and Bucky glances up. A small smile crosses his lips as he catches the pistol that comes flying towards him and nods slightly. Then a young Steve comes barreling through the door, shield raised. He rams into one of the crates on the rack in front of them, forcing the man who had been lurking behind to come out into the open. Bucky takes him out with one shot. 

“I had him on the ropes.” Bucky says, moving to stand next to Steve and even his voice is different, slightly higher and less rough. 

“I know you did.” Comes the fond reply, before the whine of a weapon charging causes Steve to whirl to face the open door. Steve yells “Get down!” as he drags Bucky behind him and brings his shield up in the nick of time. 

The blast from the weapon sends Steve hurtling toward one wall as it tears open the other. They can see snowy terrain whipping past and Sam closes his eyes as realization strikes him. 

He forces them open again in time to see Bucky scramble to his feet. With a quick glance at Steve, crumpled by the wall, Bucky picks up the shield and heads towards the door, firing at the Hydra goon. The next blast sends Bucky flying out the hole in the wall. 

Now it is Steve who is scrambling, flinging the shield at the man and knocking him into the next compartment. Not sparing him a glance, Steve rushes to the side of the car, ripping his cowl off as he goes. 

There is a moment of vertigo as the scene shifts around them. Now it as if they are outside the train, pacing it. They can see Bucky clinging to the torn wall of the train. 

“Bucky!” Steve screams as he begins to slide along the side of the car. “Hang on!” He orders desperately as he and Bucky inch their way towards each other. “Grab my hand!!” Steve is stretching, leaning precariously over in an attempt to close the gap between them. Bucky reaches out and the bar he is dangling from gives an ominous creak. “NO!” Steve lunges as it gives way but he is too far. Bucky plummets toward the ground hundreds of feet below, his panicked scream echoing around them as the room fades to black again. 

As soon as the room lightens enough to see, Sam is searching for Steve. He is standing frozen, shaking, staring blankly across the room and gripping Bucky’s hand so tight that their knuckles are bleached white. Bucky has his forehead pushed into Steve’s shoulder and he is keeping up a constant stream of words.

“It’s okay Steve. Steve I’m here. I’m here and I’m alive. You are here with me.”

Steve blinks slowly and he croaks, “Bucky?”

“Yeah Stevie. I’m right here.”

Steve’s free hand comes up to grip the back of Bucky’s neck and then he is turning, collapsing into Bucky’s hold. “Bucky. Oh, God Bucky. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“No. Steve, we have been over this. It was not your fault.”

“I should have been able to save you! I could have been faster or reached farther or…”

“Or nothing.” Bucky’s voice is unrelenting. 

“Bucky is right.” Sam interjects, moving until he is standing in front of the two broken men. Sometimes even he forgot that Steve was a young combat veteran, just like so many of the men and women Sam saw at the VA every day.

“Steve, we all just saw what happened. You did everything possible to save Bucky. You almost fell yourself trying to reach him.” Sam reached out to grip Steve’s shoulder. “You have to stop blaming yourself for what was a tragic wartime accident.”

“I should have gone back for him.”

Sam shakes his head incredulously. “Steve I saw that drop. We all did. The only reason that Bucky survived was because of Zola’s experiments. You had every reason to believe he was dead.” 

Sam knows he won’t be able to convince Steve of anything right now. It is enough to see the slight relief in Steve’s eyes. 

The quiet is broken by Bucky. “Are you having fun, you sick bastard?” He growls at the empty air around them. “Guess what? This wasn’t a secret! I lived it the first time and we were all well aware of the fact that Steve feels the need to take responsibility for everything and everyone.”

“Oh no Sergeant Barnes,” the voice hisses in glee, “that was not the secret. Do you wish to tell them, Captain, or shall I? Tell them how often you relive this scene. How you cannot close your eyes without seeing it. How every time you try to sleep you awake with your scream chasing the echo of his. When was the last time you slept, Captain?” 

Sam’s thoughts are racing, searching through the time he has known Steve. Had he ever seen Steve sleep? No. No, he hadn’t, Sam realized, growing cold. While they had been searching for Bucky, Steve had always been up later than Sam and awake before him. Sam had simply assumed he had been pushing himself to the limit, hunting down every possible lead and angle. How long had they all been living under assumptions like that?

When Sam looks up, Bucky is staring at Steve in naked horror. “Steve. Answer the question.” 

Steve shudders. Refusing to meet any of their eyes, he mutters, “I slept last night.”

Clint, who is notorious for providing evasive answers to medical questions, narrows his eyes and asks, “How long did you sleep last night?” 

After a long moment, Steve sighs and answers. “An hour? Maybe two?”

A litany of swears cycles through Sam’s head. Forcing his voice to stay steady, Sam tightens his grip on Steve’s shoulder and asks, “And before last night? When was the last time you slept? How much sleep are you getting Steve?”

Blue eyes dark with guilt flick up to meet his. “Four days ago.” Sam keeps his face neutral and Steve studies him before continuing. “I average about five hours a week.”

Tony is swearing behind him and he can hear a creak as Clint’s grip on his bow tightens dangerously. Sam ignores them and keeps his eyes locked on Steve. “No more.” He says firmly. “You can’t keep this up, super soldier or no.” Now that he is looking, Sam can see the marks of exhaustion on his friend. He wasn’t sure how they had managed to miss this. “We will figure something out, but, Jesus, Steve, promise me no more.”

Steve nods slowly and Sam squeezes his shoulder once before releasing him. Sam moves back a few steps and Natasha slips into his place, silently laying a hand on Steve’s arm. Steve studies her for a moment and nods in response to whatever he finds in her face. He then looks up and exchanges looks with Clint and Tony, whose swearing has slowed to the occasional “Fuck.” 

Finally he turns to Bucky, who simply wraps his arms around the blond for a long moment. 

Assured that they are still with him, Steve straightens, keeping one hand fisted in the back of Bucky’s vest. His voice is more confident than before as he addresses his tormentor.

“One down. Bring it on.”


	3. Round 2

**_TONY_ **

There is no slow build up this time. The words have barely left Rogers’ lips when they suddenly find themselves in what appears to be a giant cockpit. It’s been trashed – various items are strewn about the floor and there is a hole through the windshield. 

A low “Shit” drags Tony’s attention to Rogers, who is still standing between Barnes and Natasha. “You ain’t gonna like this, Buck.”

Barnes looks up at Rogers with a frown. Tony opens his mouth to make some quip about enjoying himself, but another voice speaks over the whistling of the wind. 

“Come in, this is Captain Rogers, do you read me?”

Tony’s brow furrows as he and the others turn to look at Rogers. Rogers – who is looking freakishly calm given the circumstances – gestures to the large pilot’s chair. Shifting to the side a step, Tony can see a roughed up young Rogers manning the plane. The radio crackles to life.

Captain Rogers, what is your – Steve? Is that you? Are you alright?

Tony freezes at the sound of Peggy’s voice, mind whirling. A split second later the pieces click into place.

“Fucking fuckity fuck!” He swore vehemently. The others turn to him as Rogers replies to the radio.

“Peggy! Schmidt’s dead!”

No matter how many times he had begged as a child, Aunt Peggy had always refused him this story. As far as he knew, which let’s be honest, was pretty far, she had never repeated this conversation to anyone, even her husband. Now Tony was going to get a first-row seat….and he would rather be anywhere else. He met Rogers’ steady gaze. How the fuck was he so calm?

What about the plane?

Rogers’ opens his mouth and closes it again as he flips random switches on the panel in front of him. “That’s a little bit tougher to explain.”

Barnes, at least, has caught on to what they are watching. He moves closer to Rogers, slipping an arm around the taller man’s waist, his face a hard mask. 

Give me your coordinates. I’ll find you a safe landing site.

“There’s not gonna be a safe landing.” It is said calmly, matter of fact. “But I can try and force it down.” 

I-I’ll-I’ll get Howard on the line. He’ll know what to do.

For the first time in a long time, Tony wants to hear his father’s voice.

“There’s not enough time. This thing’s moving too fast and it’s heading straight for New York.”

Tony can see the acceptance of what is to come settle on the young man’s face before he says haltingly, “I gotta put her in the water.” 

With a pained noise, Barnes buries his face in Rogers’ chest. The blond wraps one arm around his friend and slips his free hand into Natasha’s waiting one. Tony is suddenly regretting every harsh word he said to Rogers when they met. 

Please – don’t do this. We-we have time. We can work it out.

“Right now I’m in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer, a lot of people are gonna die. Peggy, this is my choice.”

At the words, Rogers looks down at the brunet in his arms and pulls him in closer. The phrase is heavy with some meaning that Tony doesn’t understand. Aunt Peggy, however, clearly does as she doesn’t try to argue any further.

Tony watches as Rogers pulls a compass out and places it gently on the controls. He stares at it for a long moment before turning forwards and forcing the nose of the plane down. Tony braces himself for the sudden shift and reaches out to keep Wilson from sliding across the floor. 

Rogers looks at the compass again before saying, “Peggy?”

I’m here. The soft reply is immediate. 

“I’m gonna need a raincheck on that dance.”

Tears are streaming down Wilson and Natasha’s faces. Barton’s jaw is clenched so tightly Tony thinks he may hurt himself. Barnes is shuddering in Rogers’ arms. Tony is fighting the urge to put the helmet back up and turn off the exterior sound. Rogers just closes his eyes and rests his cheek on Barnes’ head.

Alright. A week. Next Saturday at the Stork Club. 

“You got it.”

Eight o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late. Understood?

Why had he ever wanted to hear this? It is so much worse than he could have anticipated, listening to the woman who was a second mother to him and the man he counts as one of his closest friends discuss a date they both know will never happen.

“You know I still don’t know how to dance.” Fear is creeping into Rogers’ voice and Tony aches with how young he sounds. He chances a glance out the windshield and his heart leaps into his throat at the sight of the ice and water rushing towards them. 

I’ll show you how. Aunt Peggy’s voice is thick with tears. Just be there.

“We’ll have the band play something slow. I’d hate to step on your – “

The impact, while dampened, sends them all sprawling. Rogers, meanwhile, slams into the controls, the snap of breaking bones clearly audible. He slumps to the floor and begins to drag himself up the cockpit as water pours through the shattered windshield.

It is the icy water swirling around them that finally splinters Rogers’ calm. He scrambles to his feet. “No. No no no no. Can’t. Cold. I can’t. No. Too cold.” 

Shit. If there is one thing Tony recognizes it is the signs of a panic attack. He doesn’t feel too far from one himself, memories of a dark cave attempting to rise with the water. Forcing the memories away, Tony focuses on Rogers to distract himself.

“Cap?” Barton asks from where he is still on the floor.

“It’s a panic attack.” Tony tells him. “We need to calm him down.” Tony looks to Barnes as the most likely source of comfort and swears as he finds Barnes in a huddled mass on the floor, wild eyed and muttering to himself in Russian.

Tony sighs. “What a bunch of fucking disasters we are.” Turning to Wilson he says, “You and Natasha take Robocop over there. Legolas and I will handle the Capsicle.” 

Without a word Wilson heads towards Barnes. Natasha is already there, speaking to the assassin in quiet Russian. Barnes focuses on her, the wildness in his eyes dimming as he does. Satisfied that one of the ancient ice cubes is handled, Tony turns back to Rogers.

Waving Barton over he orders, “See if he’ll respond to touch. I can’t handle the contact during an attack - so be careful in case he lashes out – but it can be grounding to some. I’d do it but the suit would prevent skin on skin contact.”

Barton nods and moves to Rogers’ side. The soldier is still rambling and doesn’t respond when Barton says his name. When Barton places a hand on his arm, however, the blond whirls and throws himself into the archer’s arms. Barton sways at the impact, but steadies himself and hold Rogers tightly as he runs a soothing hand up and down his back.

The sinking plane fades after a few minutes, to Tony’s intense relief. It takes another couple of minutes for Rogers to calm down enough to relax his grip on Barton, who winces.

“You’ve got quite the power cling, Cap.” The archer jokes. Rogers freezes and then hurls himself away from Barton, who staggers. “Whoa there, big guy. It’s alright, you didn’t hurt me.”

“I’m sorry.” Rogers manages, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Barton frowns. “I said you didn’t hurt me.”

Rogers shakes his head. “Not just that. I’m sorry about…losing it. It was just a little water. I should be better than that. I’m sorry your commander is a coward.”

Raising a brow, Tony interrupts before Rogers can ramble any more ridiculous apologies. “Hey Cap? Do you think your buddy Barnes is a coward?”

Startled, Rogers answers immediately. “No!”

“And what about me?” Yikes, there was a question he could have happily lived his life without asking. Tony doesn’t get to dread the answer long before Rogers is responding.

“What? No, Tony, of course I don’t! Why would you ask that?”

“Because I don’t think you have noticed, but the cold was enough to set off Terminator over there.” Tony gestures to where Barnes is still huddled between Natasha and Wilson. “And a few more minutes in the water would have taken me down for the count. This team has triggers coming out the wazhoo. I am honestly impressed sometimes that we can find activities that don’t send one of us spiraling into a panic. Doesn’t make any of us cowards.”

He doesn’t get a chance to continue before the voice is back. “I must admit I did not expect this much active involvement.” It sounds slightly disgruntled.

Tony snorts. “You sure you’ve done your research?”

He then has the horribly new sensation of immediately regretting speaking as the voice replies, “Very well. The rules are changing.”


	4. Round 3

**_CLINT_ **

Before any of them could ask what in the hell that was supposed to mean, Clint sees Cap freeze out the corner of his eye.

“Tony?” Cap asks, staring at him.

“What’s up, Cap?” Stark replies warily.

Acting as if he hadn’t heard, Cap blinks and repeats, “Tony?” He starts to sound panicked as he spins toward Clint. “Clint?”

Clint can see Cap’s eyes scanning the area around him, never focusing on Clint. Clint waves his hand in front of Cap’s face, but there is no response. 

“What did you do to them?” Cap barks at the ceiling. Bucky uses Sam to lever himself to his feet and tries to reach out and grab Cap’s arm. His hand stops a few inches from contact and Bucky is brought up short. Tasha prowls around Cap to Clint’s side. 

“What is this?” Stark asks as Cap continues searching the room, apparently not seeing any of them.

“I told you, Mr. Stark, I changed the rules. For the next couple of rounds the Captain will not be a mere spectator. Instead, he will be unable to differentiate the visions from reality. Should provide some interesting results, no? In accordance with that, of course, he will not be able to see or hear any of you. Wouldn’t want you to spoil the fun.”

“Captain,” the voice continues, and now it is clear that Cap can hear him. 

“What did you do to my team?” Cap repeats shortly.

“Not to worry, they will be rejoining us shortly. There were just a few items that needed attending to.”

“That sounds bad.” Clint murmurs to Tasha, who jerks her head in agreement. 

Cap, who is arguing with the fucking voice, suddenly cuts off with a moan as he doubles over. Despite knowing it would do no good, Clint can’t stop himself from rushing forward. Tasha grabs his arm before he can bash his face into whatever field was separating Cap and the rest of them. Bucky and Sam are not so lucky; Sam stumbles back, curses muffled by the hand he had clasped to his nose while Bucky pounds on the surface, practically roaring in rage. 

Cap crumples to the ground, managing to pant out, “What are you doing to me?” 

“This is not my doing. Captain.” The voice hisses.

“Fat fucking chance.” Clint says.

Cap convulses, his scream nearly drowned out by Bucky’s howl as he batters the surface with his metal fist. When it ends, Cap pushes himself shakily to his feet and stares down at himself in horror. 

Clint watches him in shock, speaking before his mind catches up with his mouth. “Whoa, Cap was fucking tiny! I mean, I’ve seen pictures and that thing at the museum but are you kidding?”

“Shut your face Barton.” Bucky growls, eyes never leaving Cap. “How did you do that?” He directs the question to the room around them.

“This is Round three.” The voice replies. “This particular fear is an old one of the Captain’s.”

Cap finally recovers enough to ask, “What happened?”

The voice is delighted as it responds, “It was always a possibility wasn’t it Captain? What did you say to Sergeant Barnes when you pulled him off that table all those years ago? He asked you if it was permanent and you replied…”

“So far.” Bucky and Cap say the words together, Cap’s tone terrified, Bucky’s dismayed. Cap continues, “So…so the serum failed? That’s-there’s nothing I can do?”

“Exactly. I think it is time we bring your friends back, don’t you? Just one more thing.”

Chain suddenly appears around Cap’s slender wrists, yanking his arms above his head and continuing until Cap’s toes were dangling a few inches from the floor. Cap suppresses a yelp of pain at the shift and Clint eyes his shoulders worriedly, hoping they wouldn’t dislocate from the hanging weight of his body. Thankfully, Cap wraps his hands around the chains, using the reduced strength in his arms to relieve some of the pressure on his shoulders.

“Now then,” the voice says as a door slide open across from them. Clint starts toward the door, in the hopes that it really was an exit, but is brought up short by the sight of Tasha, Stark, Sam, Bucky and himself being led through the door, restrained and guarded. “Freaky.” He manages. 

All the doubles except Tasha are chained to the wall in Cap’s view. Tasha’s double is dragged to the open space between them. 

“Oh come on,” Tasha snorts. “I have never in my life been that docile.” Her amusement dies as one of the guards pistol-whips her and she collapses to the floor. 

“NO!” Cap shouts, struggling against the chains. “Leave her alone! You said you wouldn’t hurt them!”

“I lied.” 

“Stop it! Don’t hurt her. Hurt me. Do whatever the hell you want to me but leave my team alone!” His pleas and struggles are ignored as the guards beat Tasha’s double. Clint realizes that he has wrapped his arm around Tasha and dragged her in to press against his side. She doesn’t resist, knowing Clint well enough to understand his need to tangibly reassure himself of her safety. Eventually, Tasha’s double stops moving and the guards pause as one of them leans down to press two fingers to her neck.

“Yep, she’s done. Put her over there and I’ll grab the next.”

Steve is reduced to simply screaming Natasha’s name as he thrashes uselessly against the chains. Clint forces himself to watch with Cap as one-by-one the doubles are dragged into the open, tortured and killed. The sadistic bastard running the game keeps changing the methods too. Clint is not sure how to live with the image of Sam drowning in his own blood from the gash across his throat, or Stark writhing in agony as the arc reactor is removed and shrapnel rips his heart apart. But he also doesn’t want Cap to have to bear that burden alone, so he keeps his eyes on the horrors enacted in front of him. 

Cap is completely incoherent by the time the Bucky double’s broken body is heaved into the corner with the rest. The chains holding him in the air vanish and he collapses to the ground sobbing. 

“It’s your fault, Captain.” The voice whispers. Cap’s sobs increase. “They are dead because you were too weak to help them.”

Bucky snarls in helpless rage as Cap curls into himself tighter. The voice turns his attention to them. “Did you enjoy my little show? I considered just lining you all up and shooting you, but it is so much more entertaining giving him time to try and save you only to be brought up short by his own physical limitations.”

Clint is watching as Cap shudders on the floor, sobs beginning to subside. Somehow he has a feeling that it would be better if Cap kept crying.

“The extended edition of that vision also nearly guarantees the continuation of the game. You see, I don’t even need to provide a vision for Round 4. The Captain will take care of that himself.”

Yeah, Clint really hopes Cap stays on the ground.


	5. Round 4

**_NATASHA_ **

Steve’s body seems to ripple as he forces himself to his feet. By the time he is upright his body has returned to its serum enhanced version. Not that Steve notices. He is completely silent as he makes his way over to the bodies in the corner. He drops to his knees and simply stares at them for a long moment before reaching out and gently lifting Yasha’s body into his arms.

“Oh, God.” Natasha murmurs, one hand raising to press against her lips as she watches Steve gently brush Yasha’s tangled hair off his face. He runs his fingers lightly down Yasha’s jaw, then twists and lays him carefully on the ground. 

Steve then turns back to the heap of bodies and extracts Clint. One by one he lifts their bodies and places them alongside each other, lingering over each, gracing them with tender touches. Finally, Steve finishes arranging Natasha. His large hand smooths over the top of her head as he presses his lips to her forehead. Her heart twists at the familiar gesture; one that until now had only been used in times of joy. Steve rocks back on his heels and pushes himself to his feet. He surveys the five of them before turning away and the team gets their first good look at him.

Choked off gasps and sharp inhales break the oppressing silence alongside Clint’s muttered “Holy Hell.”

This- this is a Steve they have never seen. He is soaked in their blood, uniform dyed maroon and bare skin streaked with crimson. Beneath the blood his face radiates a cold dark menace that Natasha hadn’t known he was capable of. Stalking to the door and finding it locked, Steve tilts his head and considers it. Then, in a move so fast she almost misses it, he levers himself back and kicks the door so hard it comes clean off the hinges and flies down the hall. 

The cry of alarm is cut off abruptly as Steve steps through and snaps both guards’ necks without a moment’s hesitation. He divests them of their weapons and strides forward through the compound, eliminating anyone he comes across, the team trailing in his wake. 

“He reminds me of you.” Natasha says quietly to Yasha. “When you were the Soldier.”

It’s true. There is no hesitation, no vacillating. Every shot hits directly between his target’s eyes. More often than not, Steve foregoes weapons for his bare hands. Throughout it all Steve never makes a sound and his expression never wavers. 

Clearing his throat, Yasha replies, “I’ve never – I mean how – this isn’t…” he stops and takes a breath. Natasha doesn’t say a word, letting him sort out his thoughts. “Steve’s always had a temper, but this?”

Natasha considers him for a moment. “Yasha, what happened in the past when he thought he lost you?”

“What?”

“The first time – Azzano. What did Steve do?”

“He came to get me.”

Natasha snorted. “Please. He found out you were captured - possibly dead - and Steve went AWOL, jumped from a plane into enemy territory – while being fired upon – and stormed a Hydra base alone, prompting them to destroy the base.”

“He is an idiot. Doesn’t cover this though.” Yasha waves a hand toward where Steve has one man pinned several feet up a wall while he breaks another’s arm.

Natasha continues as if he hadn’t spoken. “Then you fell. And what did he do? He blasted his way through the front gates of another Hydra base and then surrendered himself in order to be taken to one of the men he held responsible for your death. He then made damn sure Schmidt was dead.”

Yasha is staring at her as he absorbs her words. The next part comes out softer, sadder. “And then he tried his best to kill the other man he blamed for your death, didn’t he?” Yasha’s eyes snap to Steve in horrified understanding. “Steve – doesn’t handle loss well. Not when it is someone important to him. If he can’t prevent it then you can bet he is going to make those responsible pay. He certainly deserves the mantle of Avenger. He thinks he just watched all of us, his team, his soldiers, his friends die. This is more restrained than I’d expect.” She finished, surveying the destruction surrounding them.

Steve has gone through the entire compound. He stands in the middle of the room, eyeing the equipment around him as if debating whether to turn his anger on that next. Before he can, the vision fades, leaving them in the same room as before. Steve freezes.

The voice must have released the restrictions on Steve with the vision, because when Yasha asks, “Steve?” the blond whirls around so fast he staggers. All the blood drains from his face.

“You’re dead.” He croaks, eyes roaming amongst them. “I watched you die.”

“No.” Yasha replies, easing toward Steve. “It was one of the visions. Part of this fucking game.”

“No. No.” Steve shakes his head. “I watched it happen. I… this, this could be the vision.”

“Then why’d that scene just fade away?” Yasha prompts, creeping closer. “Come on Stevie, it’s ok. We’re real, I swear.”

With a cry, Steve lurches forward into Yasha’s hold. Yasha tugs him close, murmuring “There ya go. See? Solid as ever punk.”

Steve simply clings for a moment before twisting in Yasha’s arms. His eyes land on Natasha and she immediately joins the men, reaching out to place her hand along his cheek. “We’re all alive, Steve.” She assures him. The others draw near, reassuring Steve of their presence. 

“I couldn’t stop it.” Steve confesses guiltily. “They tortured you and there was nothing I could do. And then I… Oh, God!” Suddenly Steve is wrenching himself away, scrambling to put as much distance between himself and the others as possible.

Natasha glances at Yasha, but he is merely blinking at Steve’s abrupt departure. She huffs out an annoyed breath before snapping “Steve, stop!”

Her sharp tone does what gentle words couldn’t and Steve halts in his tracks. He locks onto Natasha and whispers, “What did I do? All those people – “

“Weren’t real.”

“I thought they were.”

Natasha shrugs. Her indifference pisses Steve off and his voice gains volume.

“I thought they were real and I murdered them.”

“Yes.” Her blunt agreement throws him off enough to keep him quiet. “Steve we saw what you saw.” Natasha catches the twitch in his expression – he hadn’t known, at least not for sure. “If it had been me – if I had been forced to watch as Clint was electrocuted or you were cut to ribbons – I would have razed this place to the ground.”

“Same.” Clint adds, the others nodding agreement.

“Anyone who does something like that to our family deserves what’s coming to them.” Natasha can feel a feral grin creep across her face. Steve blinks owlishly at her and then an answering grin illuminates the blond’s face. 

“Hear that?” He asks the ceiling. “Still want to play this game?”


	6. Round 5

**_BUCKY_ **

The relief of seeing that reckless grin on Steve’s face is indescribable. Bucky has always thought of Steve like the sun – fiery, golden and unrelenting. He was the light that dragged Bucky from his darkness time and again. To see that flame doused, replaced by ice and fury, well. Bucky would spend the rest of his life making sure it never happened again.

The thought barely has time to register before that God-damn voice is back.

“Yes, Captain, I would most certainly like to continue the game. It is time for the finale! And I think you know exactly what that will be.”

Like a switch flipped, all of Steve’s revived confidence goes flying out the fucking window. “No. Please.”

“Yes.” The voice hisses, dragging out the word. “I think for the finale we will combine two. After all, Captain, these fears are thoroughly intertwined are they not? Fear of the truth? Fear of the response? The fear that has controlled you for as long as you can remember? Nearly your whole life no?”

“Don’t. Please. God, please don’t do this.”

“Steve,” Sam soothes. “It is only one more. Whatever it is, we can handle it, together, just like we have this far. One more and then we are free.”

“You don’t understand!” Steve’s voice is rising, edging toward hysteria. “I can’t do this! Not here! Not now!”

“Pity. You agreed to this Captain. You may always forfeit, of course, if you so desire, but the consequences for not playing remain the same.”

Steve is nearly hyperventilating. His eyes flicker from Natasha, Sam and Clint and land on Bucky. His face twists in grief before he drops his gaze to the floor. He just nods.

“Excellent. By the way, this time I invite… audience participation, if you will. Look around, Sergeant, I think you’ll be surprised by this fear.” 

Bucky’s brow furrows at being addressed. He turns his head and lets out a sharp cry when he sees himself standing there. It wasn’t exactly him and yet it was the most truthful interpretation of who Bucky Barnes was that he had ever seen. The figure was a combination of all the states of Bucky. He had his metal arm, but he was slimmer than he was currently. He was bigger than he had been during the war, however, and his hair was way past regulation. There was a wicked hint of amusement in the tilt of his lips that contrasted harshly with the icy glare of the Winter Soldier. It was simply- him. 

It was the single most painful moment of his life.

“You’re afraid of me?” The words emerged as a broken sob. All this time. It didn’t make sense. Why would Steve have done all those things if he was terrified of Bucky? Was it out of some sick sense of obligation?

“What?!” Steve yelps, head snapping up. “No! I would never - I’m not afraid of you!”

“Then how the hell do you explain that?” He asks, waving a hand at his double. Bucky is desperately fighting back the storm of emotions, trying to stay somewhat calm for Steve’s sake. 

Steve again loses all his color as he starts to wring his hands in front of him. “Listen, you have to trust me Bucky.” 

And suddenly there is a double of Steve standing in front of the other Bucky, mirroring Steve’s nervous fidgeting and expression of panicked anticipation. He too, is some strange embodiment of everything Steve Rogers is: Not the Adonis he is now nor the slender, graceful man he had been, but falling somewhere between. 

“One Captain Rogers to speak the truth and two Sergeant Barnes to respond. Do you think their reactions will be one and the same?” The voice practically cackles.

And then the Steve double begins to speak. 

“Bucky, there is something I have to tell you. I should have told you a long time ago I just… I didn’t know how. And I was scared. Please, Buck, please just promise you won’t leave me. I don’t think I could stand it.”

Bucky and his double’s brows shoot up in surprise. A part of his mind was analyzing the voice’s taunt. Whatever Steve was hiding, at least part of it was due to fear of Bucky’s reaction. He didn’t know how he would react – he didn’t have a mother fucking clue where this was going – but even if his initial reaction was exactly what Steve feared his double’s reaction should let him tailor his response to avoid hurting Steve. 

“I’d never leave you Steve. Not voluntarily. Till the end of the line, right pal?”

Alright well so far he and his double were in agreement.

“You say that now…” Bucky watched as Steve gathered his courage and made eye contact with his double. As confidently as he could with his voice shaking like a leaf, Steve said “I – I’m in love with you Bucky. I have always loved you. I know you don’t feel the same and – and that’s alright. I have never needed anything but your friendship. I just couldn’t keep lying to you. I’m sorry Buck. Please, God, just don’t hate me.”

Bucky’s brain short-circuited. Steve… loved…him? 

His brain rebooted as his double’s face twisted in a disgusted grimace. “Everyone warned me about you. Told me to stay the hell away from you. Should have listened to them. You stay the fuck away from me, understand?” He spat as he shoved Steve away from him and turned to storm away. Their doubles disappeared just as Steve’s double collapsed to the floor, weeping. 

“Buck?” The hesitant question drew his gaze to the real Steve, who looked close to doing the same thing. 

Bucky did the only thing he could. He took two steps, reached up to fist his hand in the short hair at the back of Steve’s head and used the hold to yank Steve’s lips down to his. Steve gasped in surprise and Bucky took advantage, deepening the kiss. He kisses Steve with all the longing and desperation he had been keeping bottled inside. Steve’s hands glide up his sides to his waist and drag Bucky flush against him. Finally kissing Steve is better than Bucky had dreamed. He would be happy to spend the rest of his life doing nothing but this. 

Unfortunately, the need to breath interferes, and Bucky pulls back enough to gasp for air. He keeps his forehead pressed against Steve’s and laughs between pants, “You little idiot. My goddamn precious, beautiful, perfect dumbass.”

Steve pulls away far enough to stare at Bucky. Bucky can’t help but laugh at the expression on his face. Leaning up to press his lips to Steve’s again – Jesus he will never get enough – he confesses, “I have been in love with you since before I was old enough to know what love was.”

**_STEVE_ **

“Well finally.” A horribly familiar voice drawls.

“Loki?!” Clint squawks. “What the hell?”

Steve somehow manages to lift his head and turn toward the god, who is smirking at Clint. The archer has his bow drawn on the trickster, and he is not alone. Steve and Bucky are the only ones not pointing a weapon, though that might have something to do with the fact that they have yet to release each other. Steve is not planning on ever letting go if he can manage it.

“This was your doing?” He asks.

Loki turns to eye him and Bucky, completely ignoring the various threats. His voice drops to the sibilant whisper that has been taunting them this entire time. “Obviously. Did you really expect something else?”

“I knew we shouldn’t have trusted Thor about you being ‘rehabilitated’.” Tony says. “Your brain is still a bag of fucking cats. Give me one reason I shouldn’t shove my repulsor up your ass right now.”

Loki actually looks startled. “I was helping!”

“You…you were…you think…helping??” Tony sputters, knocked nearly speechless with shock. Clint is blinking rapidly, like if he tries hard enough this will turn out to be a vision as well. Natasha is stalking slowly up behind the god, knives drawn. Sam, meanwhile, is shifting to put himself between Loki and Steve. 

Steve can feel Bucky growling in fury. He moves as though to attack Loki but Steve refuses to let go of him. Reminded of Steve’s hands on him, Bucky slinks backward to press against Steve’s chest, effectively blocking Loki from him. Instead he rumbles, “Explain how – exactly – you think this was helping. Or so help me….”

Loki raises a brow at Bucky, looking pointedly at where Steve’s hands are wrapped around Bucky’s waist. Buck’s flesh hand moves to cover one of Steve’s. 

“I’m sorry,” Sam interjects. “You are trying to take credit for our reactions during that sick mind game?”

“I was telling the truth earlier. I have watched you all for some time, ever since my brother joined your merry little band. And one thing became hideously obvious.” The trickster pauses. When he continues, he sounds confused. “None of you could see it though. The Captain was… lost. Lost in a way I recognized. I, admittedly, did not handle it well, but I did not have friends like you all do. For the Captain to have that and yet for it to mean nothing when all you ignored his suffering – it wasn’t right.”

A few beats of silence and Sam says hesitantly, “I will give you that. There is no excuse for us, but I still don’t understand why the hell you thought this was the best way to remedy the situation.”

Now Loki sneers. “Please. The only way to get you underlings to see was to shove your faces into it.”

“…And there is the Loki we all know and love.” Tony adds with a flourish. 

“Loki.” Steve begins. “I can’t thank you for what you did. The means don’t always justify the ends and I think that is true in this case. However, I can and do thank you for the intent behind this, however misguided it may have been.”

The god meets his eyes for a long moment. Steve can see the pain he himself has been hiding flicker there before Loki puts on another smirk. “Yes, well, you mortals can be so sensitive. I’ll take my leave then, shall I?” He disappears between one blink and the next and the walls shimmer and melt away to reveal a sterile white lab with several open doors. 

“Things are always interesting when he shows up.” Tony comments as they head toward one. “And by interesting, I mean nightmare inducing, holy hell in a handbasket, what the ever-loving fuck is our life chaos.”


	7. Climax

**_BUCKY_ **

They are quiet as they make their way back to the jet. He and Steve have their fingers entangled, and once they board the quinjet the two of them settle on one of the benches near the back. The others head toward the front, Barton and Natalia settling into the pilot and copilot seats as Sam and Stark bicker good naturedly about something. 

Bucky is still trying to process the fact that he can hold Steve’s hand, curl into him as they sink farther into the seat. Steve wraps an arm around Bucky, tugging him closer. They don’t say anything the entire trip back to the tower. There will be time for words later. Right now he is simply content to soak up Steve’s warmth.

The jet touches down and Bucky follows Steve as he heads off the roof into the elevator. Steve leads him out onto their floor and then stops in the living room. “Buck-“ He starts and he sounds slightly tortured. It stops Bucky in his tracks.

“Steve?” Bucky asks.

“I just, I gotta ask. Did you mean it? Or was it just something to get us out of there?”

Bucky reaches up with the hand not desperately clutching Steve’s. Gently he turns Steve’s face toward him and tilts his head to press their foreheads together. 

“I swear to you Stevie. This is all I have ever wanted. Everything I dreamed off. I never thought I would get it. I wasn’t anywhere close to good enough for you before and now…. But I don’t care. I am yours Steve. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Steve kisses him then. It is soft and sweet and Bucky has waited too fucking long to be content with that. He nips at Steve’s bottom lip and uses the moan it draws from the blond to deepen the kiss. Steve catches on quickly, beginning to kiss Bucky in earnest. He slides his hands down Bucky’s back to his ass and Bucky is the one moaning as Steve lifts him. Bucky can feel the wall press against his back as he lifts his legs to wrap around Steve’s waist. They both groan as the movement grinds them together. 

Steve breaks the kiss to mouth down Bucky’s neck. Bucky tips his head back to give him more room, arching and gasping as Steve sucks hard just below his jaw. “Steve,” he moans. “I need- “

“I know.” The blond rumbles, voice an octave deeper than normal. Bucky shudders as the sound causes heat to curl deep in his gut. He tangles his fingers in Steve’s hair and drags him back up into a kiss. Steve reciprocates eagerly, pulling Bucky off the wall and carrying him down the hall. He kicks open his bedroom door and lays Bucky on the bed, following him down. 

**_Steve_ **

Steve props himself on his elbows over Bucky, one of his thighs slotted between Bucky’s. Bucky grunts and tries to pull him down to lie atop him. Steve wants to, God, does he want to, but there is something he needs say first.

“James Buchanan Barnes.” He says softly, tone serious. Bucky stops trying to knock his arms out from under him and raises molten grey eyes to meet his. Steve feels breathless at the look in those eyes. The desire is evident, but beneath that… It is suddenly effortless to say the words.

“I love you.” 

Bucky arches up to slam his lips into Steve’s. This time Steve doesn’t fight when Bucky molds their bodies together. More declarations are murmured into each other’s mouths when they break for breath. Steve lifts a shaking hand to the clasps of Bucky’s vest. He hesitates, struck shy at the thought of undressing Bucky. “Can I?” 

Buck starts to say something sassy, but he stops once he gets a look at Steve’s face. His expression softens and he skims his fingers down Steve’s chest to hook in his belt. “Please, Stevie.” The soft response has Steve’s hands trembling harder. He still manages to undo the clasps, and Bucky lifts himself enough for Steve to peel the vest and shirt off him. 

It is not the first time he has seen Bucky shirtless, but it is the first time Steve gives himself permission to look. Bucky is gorgeous, all tanned skin stretched taut over his solid, muscled frame. Steve’s gawking is interrupted by Bucky yanking his uniform top over his head. Steve presses down once it’s out of the way, moaning at the feel of Buck’s skin on his. 

He wants nothing more than to feel the rest of Bucky against him, a feeling Bucky shares if his frantic tugging at Steve’s belt is any indication. A sudden rush of nerves hits him though and he pulls back to mutter, “Um, Buck?”

Bucky halts in his determined attempt to wrestle Steve’s pants off. 

Steve can feel the blush rising up his chest. It only deepens when he realizes Bucky is tracking its progress with eyes nearly black with desire. He swallows thickly, and forces his mind back to the issue.

“I, uh, I have never…” His face burns as he stammers. 

Steve can practically feel Bucky’s gaze as it travels up to his face. Bucky considers him for a moment and asks, “At all? Or with a man?”

Steve’s face is so hot he wouldn’t be surprised if he spontaneously combusted. “It was always you Buck. It just didn’t seem right with anyone else.”

“God Steve,” Bucky groans, undulating against Steve’s thigh. Steve chokes on a breath and rolls his hips down in answer. 

“I don’t – I mean I know – but I might not- “

Bucky’s hands grip Steve’s hips and pull them flush, halting both their motions. He looks up at Steve and says, startlingly honest, “I want you. This will be amazing because it is with you. We could stop right here and I would still be happy because I have you.” He then grins mischievously. “Although I hope you don’t want to stop because I was counting on getting your cock inside me before tonight was over.”

Steve has never been this hard in his life. His fingers trip over themselves as he tries to undo both Bucky’s belt and his own. Bucky laughs and swats Steve’s hand out of the way so he can undo Steve’s belt and pants himself. He slips his hand into Steve’s briefs and Steve can’t help the reflexive jerk of his hips at the feel of Buck’s callused palm around his aching length. Steve finally gets Bucky’s pants undone and wastes no time in returning the favor. 

The weight of Bucky’s cock in his hand is intoxicating, as are the sounds he pulls from Bucky as he swipes a thumb over the head. 

“Pants.” He groans. “Off.” 

Bucky nods and they reluctantly pull away to shed the remainder of their clothes. Steve can’t take his eyes off Bucky, eyes greedily absorbing every inch of skin as it’s revealed. 

Bucky is watching Steve as well. He licks his lips before asking, “Lube?”

“In the drawer.” Steve replies, beginning to crawl up Bucky’s body. 

“Jesus fuck.” Bucky gasps, staring at him as he gropes blindly at the bedside table, knocking nearly everything off before finding the bottle. “Do you want me to prep myself?” He asks.

Steve shakes his head furiously. “I want to do it.” His nerves return and he can’t help but add. “I might need some direction.”

“Step one,” Bucky drawls, pressing the lube into Steve’s hand. 

“Thanks, asshole.” Steve snorts. He opens the bottle and slicks his fingers. Bucky lies back and lets his legs fall open. Steve forgets what he is doing and simply stares. 

Bucky reaches out to take his wrist and draws him up between his spread thighs. He presses Steve’s fingers to himself and gasps, “Step two.”

Steve pulls Buck’s hand away and gathers the other to pin them both over Buck’s head. “Shuddup.” He orders, circling Buck’s hole with the tip of one finger. 

Bucky whines but obeys. He throws his head back as Steve slowly works the finger into him. Steve gasps at the feeling of being inside Bucky. Bucky is hot and impossibly soft. He isn’t entirely sure how he is going to survive getting his cock into him. 

Bucky squirms against Steve’s hold. “Please.” He pants.

Leaning down, Steve mouths at Buck’s collarbone as he asks, “Tell me what you want baby.”

The pet name was unintentional, but the effect it has on Bucky has Steve immediately vowing to compile an entire dictionary. Bucky keens, throwing his head back and rolling his hips, fucking himself down onto Steve’s finger. 

“More Steve. Please, God, I need more.”

Steve complies, continuing to suck and bite along Bucky’s chest. Before long Bucky is writhing in Steve’s hold as he thrusts three fingers into him. 

“I’m ready, fuck, Stevie, please, want you inside.” Bucky moans. Steve releases Bucky’s arms and withdraws his fingers, smirking at the disgruntled noise Bucky tries to suppress. He leans down to kiss Buck as he gropes for the lube bottle. Finding it in the mess of blankets, he quickly flips it open and slicks himself, grunting at the relief the friction gives him. 

Steve lets out a startled, “Eep” as Bucky takes advantage of his distraction and flips him onto his back. Then Buck is throwing a leg over to straddle him and Steve’s train of thought screeches to a halt. Bucky grinds his ass down on Steve’s aching cock as he plants his hands on either side of Steve’s head. He leans down and says, “I love you Steven Grant Rogers” before reaching one hand behind himself and guiding Steve’s length to his entrance. Steve’s eyes roll back and his hands clutch at Bucky’s thighs at the feel of Bucky stretching around him. 

Bucky pushes back until Steve is buried inside him to the hilt and then pauses, eyes closed as he pants. Then he moves. Steve cries out, arching his back and thrusting up in time to the hard, dirty rhythm Bucky sets. The clench of Buck’s ass on him combined with the helpless moans slipping from his lips have Steve rushing toward his orgasm. 

“Bucky.” He grunts. “I’m not gonna last much longer.” 

“Fuck, neither am I. Feels too good. Better than I imagined.” 

Steve reaches up and tangles a hand in Bucky’s mess of hair. He wraps the other arm around him, pulling him down and flipping them at the same time. Bucky blinks up at him in surprise at finding himself on his back. Steve pulls almost all the way out and pushes back in, one long deep thrust that nails Bucky’s prostate and sets Bucky howling. Steve grins and maintains the angle, reaching one hand down to wrap around Bucky’s cock and wring it in time with the rolling of his hips. 

Leaning down, Steve sucks on the sensitive skin just below Buck’s ear before murmuring, “Come for me baby.” Bucky screams as his cock begins to erupt, shooting up his chest. Steve follows him over the edge, hips jerking and grinding against Bucky as he gives a hoarse shout.

Steve isn’t sure how long they lay there before he feels Bucky’s fingers winding through his hair. Steve twists his head on Bucky’s shoulder to look at him. Bucky smiles softly and tilts his head to press his lips to Steve’s. “I love you,” he says, lips still brushing Steve’s. 

“I love you too.” Steve replies before slowly pulling out of Bucky. He collapses onto his back and tugs Bucky over to drape across his chest. For the first time since before Bucky fell, Steve feels sleep drifting over him and doesn’t fight it. He simply holds Bucky closer, trusting he will still be there when he wakes.

 

_It isn’t perfect. Maybe Steve will always scream himself awake several times a week. Maybe he will never be able to spend lengthy amounts of time in the cold, or stop waiting for the serum to disappear. Maybe he will lose his temper and do something he regrets. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Because the one thing Steve is absolutely sure of is that he is not alone._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gestures at chapter title* Couldn't help myself 
> 
> This was my first time writing smut so hopefully I did alright :)
> 
> Also on [tumblr ](http://captaindean13.tumblr.com/)


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